


California Daydream

by beelivia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: California, Drowning Mention, M/M, Ocean, Vignettes, beach, idk what to tag this, past relationship, ptsd mention, visits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:44:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15937940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beelivia/pseuds/beelivia
Summary: Sonny visits Nick in California for a week.// more vignettes //





	1. Down the Pier

Sonny thought he would be exhausted, as he often is after plane trips, but he finds a strange energy buzzing in his body as he drags his suitcase towards the lobby of San Diego International. Businessmen and messy vacationers spill around him while he searches for Nick in the crowd, his shirt already sticking to his back from the heat flooding through automatic doors and cracking through industrial air conditioning.

Zara finds him first, crashing into his legs followed by Nick’s voice calling her name. Sonny drops his luggage and scoops her up while she laughs and tells him about some new toy her mother bought for her a week ago. He switches her to one hip in time to see Nick nudging past an old woman and looking all too relieved to see Zara safe. 

He looks different as he gently chastises her for running off. His hair is longer, slightly curly and wild like he’s been running his fingers through it all day. The wrinkles around his eyes are deeper but his smile is twice as wide. He’s different, but a good different. Sonny sets Zara down and realizes that he’s come all this way and doesn’t know what to say. Things ended on an abrupt note and no amount of late night phone calls compares to being here, face to face. Their greeting is awkward and stiff but the hug isn’t. Nick still holds him like he’s the world. He doesn’t wear the same cologne anymore, if any, he just smells warm and a little salty.

While they walk out of the airport and towards the parking garage, Zara babbling excitedly while swinging Sonny’s hand back and forth, Nick insisting on taking the suitcase despite his bad leg slowing him down. They’re not going straight to Nick’s, Zara tells him, but she won’t say where they’re going because it’s a surprise. Something beautiful, Nick adds. And Sonny almost tells him that he’s beautiful.

The music drowns his thoughts instead, some happy station that Zara hums along to and Nick quietly sings with. California looks good on him. He’s an angel rolling down the I-78 with wind from the cracked window rustling his hair. It feels like only seconds before they’re pulling into paid parking and climbing out of the car for wherever Nick’s taken them.

He sees the horizon first. The sun is just starting to sink low on the horizon, casting golden hour light over sparkling waves that lap at the poles supporting a pier that seems to stretch endlessly. Zara grabs one of Sonny’s hands while he’s still drinking in the view, occupies her other with Nick, and starts trying to urge them towards a gorgeous blue and white building in the distance. Ruby’s, she calls it. Nick doesn’t explain but he smiles and looks at Sonny like he’s the better view.

Slowly they make their way down the peer, past fishermen and tourists, the sun beginning to tint rosy. It’s breathtaking. He can’t look away from the view, even when he starts to shiver from the plummeting temperature. Suddenly there’s a warm jacket placed over his shoulders, and Nick is smiling at him again and his breath catches in his throat at the sparkle in Nick’s eyes that he’s really missed.

When he looks away, the sky is dark, and Zara is urging them into the diner for a good meal. 


	2. Thousand Mile View

It’s barely seven in the morning when Zara wakes Sonny up with juice in one hand and a bag of cereal in the other. She calls him sleepy and tells him to get up already so they can go. Behind her, Nick stands over the table, basketball shorts low on his hips as he loads things into a backpack, laughing quietly as Sonny sits up to stretch the soreness of the couch out of his muscles. The fair is apparently a highlight, one Nick promised Zara he’d take her to this week. Sonny doesn’t mind. He finds himself rather excited to spend time in their mimicry of a family.

Dress light are his only instructions, followed by Nick handing Sonny a mug of coffee with a knowing smile. Caffeine’s necessary to get up and get going before Zara explodes with excitement. She apparently has a plan to drag them through the petting zoo first; it’s her second favorite (after the rides). Nick laughs and tells her to come sit at the table so he can put up her hair while Sonny gets dressed. He’s practiced at braiding now, like it’s a morning ritual. He’s a happier man. 

The car ride is long, thanks to New York style traffic, but the windows stay rolled fully down and the air starts to feel lighter as they approach the coastal fairgrounds. From the parking lot Sonny can see throngs of people and tall vibrant structures intended to draw photographers and paying customers. He watches Zara drag a cane off the floor of the backseat for Nick, dark and well worn like it sees a lot of use. This early, Nick seems to use it for balance more than anything, but it’ll become more necessary after hours of wandering around. 

It takes half an hour to get in, tasting the funnel cake and deep fried cookie dough in the back of his mouth. Nick has their tickets for them so that Sonny can breathe in the excited feel about the whole place. In the distance, the faint thrum of bass accompanies what can only be the first musical show of the day- starting at nine, according to a large banner near the entrance. Overwhelming sensations of all kinds bombard them before even going in. Sonny watches Nick tighten his grip on the handle of his cane at a large crash a few feet away, and puts his hand on Nick’s back. There’s nothing overtly intimate about it, but it’s a familiar gesture from old days that makes Nick relax just a little.

Once inside, things are just as intense. The petting zoo is loud and smelly, the fried food expensive and greasy, the walks long and sweltering, but Sonny feeds off the atmosphere and so does Zara. Nick gets tired quickly, needs to take a lot of breaks, but his phone is often out photographing memories to be framed later at his bedside.

By mid-afternoon, they’ve made it all the way across the fair to the beach-side rides. Zara’s face lights up with like it’s Christmas and she begs Nick to go, to try it all, and Sonny sees the reluctance on Nick’s pained face, the heavy way he leans on the aid of his cane. He can’t.

“I can take her,” Sonny says quietly, “if you need a break.”

Nick looks like he wants to object, but he glances at Zara, staring at a spinning ride, and nods, leading them to the ticket booth. He and Sonny argue over who pays- Sonny wins- and then finds a bench in the shade to wait. Zara’s already off to the first ride she wants when Sonny glances back at how sad and alone Nick looks, lost, bad leg stretched out in front of him and a bottle of aspirin half out of his bag. 

An hour and several queasy rides later, Sonny looks at the remaining tickets and has an idea. He calls Nick, tells him to meet them in line for the Ferris Wheel. They can all enjoy that. It takes a few minutes, but eventually Nick catches up to them just before it’s their turn to get into the shell casket. Settling in, Zara chatters about the rides, and how Sonny screamed, and how fun it was. They go up, up, up, pausing every so often until it’s their turn at the top of the ride.

For thousands of miles, the bay stretches to ocean and open waters that betray the curve of the earth. Sunlight beams down on them, cooler with the aid of altitude wind, but still frothy heat bearing down on the bridge of Sonny’s nose and his exposed shoulders from a lightweight tank top. He spares a fleeting thought of if he remembered sunscreen. 

More important, however, is Nick. 

Head tilted back in laughter, relaxed, happy. For all the struggles of the day, this moment makes it look like Nick is living the best life he could possibly imagine. Sonny wants to kiss him, taste the thick soft-serve and sour frozen they shared after lunch, but he doesn’t because this moment is not about him or them. It’s about the life Nick has built for himself and his daughter. Sonny sneaks a picture and hides his phone in his pocket.


	3. Ordinary

Sonny can tell Nick is sore the next day, much as he refuses to admit it. His limp is more pronounced with his bad leg’s stiffness, and his face is forcefully expressionless as he moves like molasses through the kitchen. Maria is coming to get Zara in the evening, and all three of them are tired, so the plan is to have a lazy day in. Sonny swore he doesn’t mind; as long as he’s doing what he came to California to do- spend time with Nick- he’s happy.

At the early hour, Zara is thankfully still asleep so there’s time for quiet conversation without fear of interruption. Not that Sonny doesn’t adore Zara, but some things are better said out of range of little ears. Questions of the healing process, and what’s transpired in their lives, and the pieces of what they used to be all linger on the table in fragmented puzzle pieces not fitting in entirely.

Nick talks in a sleep-rough voice about how he and Maria were originally going to try again but it didn’t work because they just weren’t happy together. He stresses about the mornings where he struggles to pull himself out of bed. He laments how hard it is to find work to supplement his meager three-quarters pay. He sometimes doesn’t know how if he’s doing the best with Zara (and Gil, who he sees so rarely). Sonny drawls back his exhaustion from long hours of drawing the short straw as the new guy. He’s been through so many traumatic incidents the nightmares merge together. He gets lonely in his Manhattan apartment sandwiched between two crappy restaurants. He thinks this job is killing him slowly.

They clink mugs together in bitter cheers and sip caffeinated rejuvenations at the cluttered breakfast bar. Butterfly clips, empty snack bowls, and notepads litter the space, but in the same kind of affectionate way the photos and drawings on the fridge collage it busily. Already, the fans are working full blast to combat the heat of the day, which leeches through window panes and half-shut blinds to coat his body in sticky warmth and threaten a fine sheen of sweat.

At some point, Nick mentions that he should make breakfast soon, but he looks to be dreading standing up and doing the work, so Sonny cheerfully volunteers. It makes him feel useful, and there’s nothing quite like taking care of the people he loves most in the world- it’s why he cooks for Amanda and Jesse all the time, after all. The sole condition upon which Nick agrees is that he helps however he can from his continued perch at the counter with his coffee. Mostly, it consists of him telling Sonny where to find things in the cabinets.

Pancake mix and half-empty containers of fruit turn into sweet crepes crisped golden brown, filled with cream and glistening strawberries and raspberries. Nick wakes up Zara while he’s cooking, bringing her out just in time for breakfast with her hair still as wild around her face as her father’s. She’s not awake enough yet to be talkative, but she mumbles her thanks and shoves a messy forkful in her mouth as Nick mixes strawberry syrup into a glass of milk. The mostly full but slightly dusty bottle attests to it being a rare treat.

This moment feels domestic, like they’re a family. Something feels right about this, especially when he sets a plate down in front of Nick and earns a gentle kiss on his cheek for the trouble. A genuine smile alights on his face, sticking that way just as he was warned growing up for his goofy expressions to make his sisters laugh. Impulse makes him ruffle Nick’s fluffy curls. And when Nick leans into it, Sonny’s heart melts in his chest.


	4. Creaky Footsteps

Getting to Old Town took a surprisingly long time, going from freeway to freeway to get to the right place. Nick had told Sonny that there’s no good Mexican food in New York (and barely any Cuban, for that matter), and while he’s here he has to have the authentic cuisine California is known for. 

By the time they arrive, it’s almost dark. Indigo paints the fading sky like the last rays of sun flood the balmy air. String lights between buildings illuminate craggy walkways and colorful shawls offered by street vendors. Cantina atmosphere drools onto Sonny’s face the same way his smile blooms at Nick’s protective hand on his hip. ‘Stay close,’ it warns, while promising your safety of home even 2000 miles from the Big Apple. 

One of the first buildings is a crowded restaurant at the mouth of the street, two stories and decorated in colorful draperies, flowers, and exposed-bulb lighting. The hostess has a large fake turquoise flower tucked against her rat and deep red matte lipstick. Nick’s rapid Spanish greeting sounds like familiarity, their conversation, carrying too quickly for Sonny to understand. He catches that Nick made reservations, though, at a specific table that makes the hostess give Sonny a brief but critical once over. 

Said table is in a secluded corner at the upper level with warm lighting and cloth napkins. A waiter drops off crisp glasses of ice water immediately, coastered on cork that feels out of place. The menu is pretty, but most of it hard to understand. Sonny squints at the description of something, making Nick laugh and tell him what he thinks he’d like. 

“Think you can pronounce it?” He teases. 

“Teach me.”

And Nick tries, despite Sonny’s accent getting in the way. In the end, Nick orders for both of them almost without thinking, offering a shy shadow of a grin when he realizes what he’s done. 

The wooden floor creaks beneath the music with its age and millions of tales of puppy love and endless love, of family dinners and first dates, of a history behind first glance like the gray edging at Nick’s temples. There’s a life to this building that welcomes them with open arms. Sonny’s sad to note that the server almost brings Nick a beer, looking surprised and confused at his refusal. It, like Nick’s flinching and cane, marks the weight that’s pushed at him since the shooting. 

Sonny finds himself putting his hand over Nick’s on top of the table, almost as if that’s where it belongs. Golden glows wash over Nick’s angular features and Sonny’s leaning forward before he can stop himself, craving the rush he’s been deprived of for too long, staring at Nick’s mouth that’s always warm and soft, just shy of desperate. 

At the last second, their food arrives, and they split apart.


	5. Sunrise Highway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, school and mental health have been a bitch! The rest is written, it just has to be typed up and postec

It’s too early, but Sonny can hardly complain when he wakes up to Nick in his lap, holding two cups of coffee to go and smiling like he’s the sun. The warm weight seated on his hips certainly doesn’t hurt either. He’s told to get up, come to the car even though it’s early because there’s something he has to see. A glance at the clock confirms it’s barely four in the morning, but Sonny can’t refuse Nick’s childish excitement. He reluctantly gets up, dragging the quilt with him as he slides to th floor easily. 

He accepts his coffee gratefully and fills his mouth with creamer and sugar splashed with a hint of coffee. It’s  less caffeine and more a sugary treat that Sonny doesn’t mind enjoying. It, like this visit, is more about pleasure than purpose, and he likes that despite the sleep clinging to the corners of his eyes. 

Still in their pajamas, they get in the car and Nick starts driving with a soft smile on his lined face. The music holds a steady undercurrent to the rumbling of the engine and the windows, rolled down, let in briskly chilly morning air that stings like nettles at Sonny’s nose and cheeks. He almost drifts off more than once and remains in hazy half-consciousness as they follow the deserted roads away from the city and into the mountains. Sonny’s never been on a road this winding and precarious, but it adds to the gentle charm of the drive. 

They eventually reach wherever it is Nick’s taking him, pulling off at a turnout on the cliffside overlooking a long valley studded with rocks and dry brush and skeletons of a vast forest fire. Dawn is beginning to bite at the horizon when Nick urges him out of the car and throws open the hatchback for them to sit and watch the sun rise in a tapestry of pinks and golds and oranges. It’s beautiful, breath taking, absolute art that washes over Nick and makes him a deity of precious metals. 

Sonny leans in first, a hand going to the back of Nick’s neck and finding himself held in return. Sonny can scarcely breathe in the seconds before they kiss, the sun dawning above them to christen the rebirth of something that won’t last. 


	6. Ripcurrent

“I know how to swim,” Sonny scoffs, but Nick still tells him to be careful. The rip currents are much stronger and more dangerous than in New York, especially given the last time Sonny swam was in a pool at the police academy years ago.

His shorts ride a little low on his hips when he wades into the icy water, goosebumps erupting across his skin despite the sun’s heat bearing down on his shoulders. The current, while visibly drifting North, doesn’t present itself stronger than a gentle tug at his legs. Nick places a hand on Sonny’s back nonetheless, comforting against the exposed skin. Waves break before they reach them and turn into mere nudges against their chests and faint salty spray in their hair. At least its chill is no longer as jarring, he thinks, feeling the current pick up the deeper they go.

Nick pulls Sonny into him the first time a wave really hits them, holding him still and close in a way that implied intimacy Sonny would enjoy were he not so shocked by the strength of the frothing crest of a wave. This feels safe, though. Nice. The beach is already packed at 10am and yet it feels like they’re the only ones on it. They’re certainly the only ones up to their waists.

The look on Nick’s face is happy, peaceful, lovesick. The same adoration colors his eyes now as it did back when they were sharing a bed and whispering confessions in a one bedroom Manhattan apartment. His lips would taste like salt water right now if Sonny kissed him. He wants to, just like he did yesterday, first in the morning but then at every opportunity presented. He watches an oncoming wave and realizes too slowly that it’ll break against his head and make the water too deep to stand in. When he turns to warn Nick, the wave is already on them and ocean water forces into his mouth. The grip Nick has on him slips and he’s spinning, tumbling, trapped and doesn’t know which way is up as sand scrapes at whatever part of him it reaches. He’s running out of air, and fast, but luckily keeps his eyes shut against the stinging sea.

As suddenly as he went under, there are arms beneath him, lifting him above the waves. He coughs and forces in a lungful of fresh air while he’s carried back to the shore. Nick is talking to him, he realizes once his blood stops rushing in his ears. Reassurances, mostly, interspersed with warnings and the occasional petty ‘I told you so’ type gripe. But he’s glad to have been rescued, and when Nick looks down at him Sonny kisses him because it feels like the right thing to do and warms him from the inside out. He’s still shivering, still cold, still feeling the burning after effects of the sand, but it’s all so easy to forget when Nick is kissing him and returning him to the safety of the beach for a neatly packed lunch and ice cold beer.


	7. Cherry on Top

Nick takes Sonny out for ice cream before he drops him off at the airport , a chain place staffed by a teenager in a red apron with freezers of pints and ice cream cakes waiting by the cash register. Two scoops each, served in paper cups with sweet toppings mixed into the ice cream quickly melting in the California heat. Nick eats around the cherry placed in the center of the top scoop, defending himself with insistence that it’s the perfect final bite. He had done the same in New York too, on the rare occasion they had the time and money to spend forever in a colorful parlor.

“You can always come back you know,” Nick says, looking at some point on the horizon over Sonny’s shoulder, eye shaded by the umbrella protecting them from the merciless sun. “This doesn’t have to be the end.

“You know I’ll be back whenever I can-”

Realization strikes Sonny like he’s been backhanded. Nick wants him here. Away from the job that’s killing him, away from the countless graves, away from his family that’s less than accepting, away from the pain. Here is a certain serenity, built from hazy weather and domestic mornings and sunshine kisses. Nick is a memory made tangible. He’s here and he wants Sonny to stay and he had made a point one night during Sonny’s stay how easy it would be for an ex-cop without Nick’s hangups to find work with good pay and good hours. But the dream has ended, and Sonny has his roots deep in the heart of Manhattan/ He has to go. As much as he’d love to keep Nick by his side instead of leaving, he knows he can’t. Chocolate ice cream now tastes like sandpaper.

His silence and ponderous expression say all the things his voice cannot. All that they’ve built together crashes in a matter of moments, and Sonny can’t do anything but watch it happen.

At the airport, Nick hugs him gooodbye and leaves a final kiss on his cheek. Next summer, Sonny will return, and they’ll pick back up right where they left off.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr @honeycarisi! comments keep me going y'all


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